I love the director and never miss a movie that they make.
I read the book and loved it, and think that it will translate to the screen well.
It stars an actor whose movies I rarely miss.
Somebody I REALLY trust tells me I need to see it. There are about two people that fit that bill.
The storyline is one that I find so compelling that I'll see it.
Other than that, I'll often just be Contrary Parry and refuse to see it, for no good reason. But on that day, as I laid glued to my sofa in lethargy, I was going through the list of movies that I had available on Netflix on my "Watch Instantly" queue. For some reason, it jumped out at me, and trusting my intuition I watched it.
Spoiler alert: If you haven't seen "Pan's Labyrinth" and have any inclination to watch it, stop here. I'm going to go into some detail that would definitely spoil it for you, and since I hate it when somebody spills the tea to me, I'll give this warning now. Another caveat: I'm going to make the assumption as I write about this that the reader has seen the movie. If you're haven't seen it yet, but are really interested in what I'm going to talk about, then I really recommend that you see the movie first, since I'm not going to do a running synopsis as I write. This story isn't going anywhere, come back after you've seen the movie.
Watching this movie had an impact on me (actually, many moments of impact) that I did not expect. It illuminated and explained in a new way a lot about my beliefs and the path that I have chosen. It would not be outside the realm of possibility that the book could be a mythic tale; one written to tell the story of A Course In Miracles, which is what I study. I'm making the assumption that the director or screenwriter is not a Course student, but I could be wrong. Regardless, it really gave me some excellent visual and theoretical metaphors for some of the more complex parts of the course, laying them out beautifully, visually and artfully. I might go more into that in another post, but I really don't want to talk about my belief about God here. That isn't my style, and it's not what this story I'm telling is about.
There were a number of universal "life's themes" that it deconstructed very well and presented in a visually stunning manner. This is really where I want to go. A few of these themes are ones that occupy a lot of my time that I spend thinking about the big questions in life, especially of late. If one only scratches the surface, these themes may seem to have little to do with where I'm at right now, but that is far from the truth. Having a lot of down time has been frustrating more often than not, but I've also found more ways to make constructive use of the time. What I've found most satisfying is reading, writing, watching movies and pondering. All these activities go quite nicely together, so as my energy level and interest level has dictated, I've been putting a lot of this down "to paper", more so than anytime I can remember in my life. There are just some really important issues that I've confronted, and I know that with time these memories will fade. I've learned a lot lately, more than in any other period in recent memory, and to lose what I've learned seems to be such a shame.
Innocence is one of the big universal themes that I've been thinking a lot about. This movie was, in so many ways about innocence: how precious a commodity it is, how and why it is usually never regained once lost, how it is lost, and finally, what makes it both, and often concurrently, a priceless commodity, and a dangerous vulnerability. In this movie, I think innocence is really one of, if not the central theme.
Innocence really is a priceless intangible. I know few people that are so jaded that they can't smile and be amazed at how imaginatively a child's mind can work while they still have their childhood innocence. It really is a wonder to behold, at least to me. I've always loved children, and if I have any big regrets in life, my biggest one is probably that I didn't have children of my own. It's a moot point now: I'm too old to start parenting a child, even in the best of health. With everything that I'm dealing with now and how fragile everything is (or seems to be), it would be a preposterous proposition for me to even think about, much less undertake.
But back to the subject. For me, there are a few questions and observations that have struck me as I think about innocence:
How it is lost? Do the disappointments and limitations that children hit the wall with as they mature slowly jade them, chipping away at it bit by bit, until the fatal card is pulled and the house of cards falls?
Why is the loss of innocence inevitable?
Why can it, like virginity, never be had again once lost?
What are the experiential differences that happen when it is gradually and "normally" lost, and when it is stolen away?
Does it wound more deeply and mortally when it is stolen (usually through a trauma inflicted by another person, usually an adult, sometimes an older child)?
Does it feel any differently when it is lost suddenly but not maliciously, possibly accidentally (for example, the loss of a parent) versus being taken purposefully?
I'm really not sure if I can answer many, if any of these questions. More likely I can answer the ones that mirror the experiences that led to my loss of innocence. But back to the movie, which was for me a revelation into the strength of the human spirit and the normal resiliency of a child's psyche. Some kids just seem to be able to shake off more than other kids and still look at the world through fresh innocent eyes. Ofelia experienced unimaginable horrors through the course of the movie; witnessing the horrible violent and bloody death of her Mother in childbirth, watching the sinister and sadistic cruelty of an extremely stern (to say the least) stepfather, and being witness to his cruel, torturous and calloused homicidal behavior. She was a witness to the ravages of war and the fear engendered by those in power, against those innocents living under a fascist regime. Despite all of the horrors that she witnessed and/or was a victim of, her innocence did for the most part remain intact, despite some significant chinks inflicted into its armor.
Though this was a fictional story, this isn't unprecedented. I think of some of the amazing stories of people who were able to keep their innocence despite horrendous life experience, sometimes even keeping it for the remainder of their lives: I'm immediately thinking of people like Ann Frank, Helen Keller, Peace Pilgrim, Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Deitrich Bonhoeffer, The Dalai Lama, Ghandi. Interesting that women came to mind for me more instantaneously, for whatever that is worth. For my contrarian readers, let's get this one out of the way right now:
For those who would challenge me as to whether any of those mentioned previously could remain for the most part innocents to the grave, especially the ones that lived into old age, I give the following argument:
Any of the people on this list could have let the atrocities that they experienced and/or witnessed in life jade and callous them, but to the end, these people really saw and expected the best from humanity.
It is amazing to me if only because I know how petty and/or victimized I can appear to feel at times, especially in the face of hardship. Honestly, I think that for the most part, my hardships pale to what these people faced, but that is irrelevant to this discussion, and I want to avoid judgments if possible. If it were me facing these challenges, I don't think I could have 1) kept that trust in the human race they showed through their actions, or 2) keep on going in the face of what seemed likely to be around the next corner. I don't really consider myself a quitter, but I don't think I have that kind of intestinal fortitude.
Back again to Ofelia: in the face of all this unprecedented cruelty and pain, she was able to stay innocent in spirit and trusting in fate. When told that she needed to sacrifice the blood of an innocent, and as such, needed to hand her newborn brother over to Pan in order to save his (and her) true world, she refused, even though she had to that point trusted him implicitly. I can hardly imagine the feeling of such a burden, made heavier by her knowing that she was the last mortal to walk the earth that could save hers and Pan's world, since she was the only human that was of that world, not ours.
As I watched the movie unfold, especially the last 20-30 minutes, I saw what was coming. It was such a close parallel to The Course that the ending seemed obvious to me. I knew that she would not sacrifice her brother when it came time to decide whether or not to blindly follow and obey the dictates of somebody who, up to that point, she had trusted. I also knew that would lead to her demise, but until her blood was spilled down into that pool at the bottom of the seemingly unending staircase, I didn't quite trust what would follow her "death". Her death was illusory, and though she didn't yet know that, she trusted her intuition and her moral compass.
Seeing death as illusory is so central to The Course. As I've studied it, I've found myself becoming far less fearful of losing this mortal body. I'm not tempting fate and inviting my demise mind you, but I do understand and believe on a deeper level that this life is really illusory to the core. This belief is also central to Zen Buddhism, probably almost the mirror to The Course in the Eastern mind.
As I was watching those final moments unfold in the movie, I was able to put myself in Ofelia's shoes. Probably, for the first time in my life, I could look at this situation completely devoid of my usual fears, and see myself make the same kind of choice. At this point in my life, I now have a far better understanding of the value of trusting in my faith, values and morals, and looking death fearlessly in the face. I remember having that kind of fearlessness and trust as a child, and though I couldn't explain why at the time, I just knew when to trust. I also believe that living on the edge of mortality for nearly half my life has something to do with this change in me as an adult, but then I also know that it is founded in my maturing understanding of God's plan and my place in the grand scheme of things.
This is very comforting, considering that up until a couple of years ago, I felt I was in a chase with death and on the verge of losing. This went on for year after year. Now, I know on a much deeper level that my time will come when it comes. As such, I can live my life more fearlessly, lovingly and joyfully, and with a more open heart. I don't fear death; I can't control when I will meet the end of this mortal life, so it's really a waste of time to fear and worry about it.
There are a couple of upsides here. First of all, it means that I can breathe more easily and live much more in the moment, both watching and experiencing my life unfold. I can spend far less time fighting: fighting my body, fighting the system, fighting Ken's family, fighting my fear. My credo used to be "pick your battles", and it sort of worked for me for a long time. It did allow me to not sweat every little possible thing that could go wrong and/or let go of the feeling that I needed to fight a battle that was a losing prospect from the start.
This has matured into a far more pleasant attitude as of late: there are no battles worth fighting. Fighting, by its very definition, and more generally the whole concept of conflict, is a dead paradigm. I have found it far more pleasant and easy to just not fight. This is not the same as rolling over dead and letting the world trample over me and my white flag. This isn't surrender, it's letting go of what doesn't matter. I will continue to speak my truth and try to walk my talk all the time (emphasis on "try"), but more and more, I'm finding that all battles have no winners. As for me, I will trust in the natural rhythms of life, speak my truth and work with the hand I've been dealt.
So then this brings me back to my original question: is it possible to regain innocence once it is lost? Up until recently my answer would have been "Impossible!". But now, with these new lenses (not necessarily rose-colored, for the record) that I'm seeing my life through, I have to think that I have actually regained at least some of my innocence. And to take this to the next step, I don't think that this is a bad thing.
Doggydad's Life Now: The Viral Monologues by Parry Tallmadge is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at doggydad.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://www.runnymedesilkys.com.
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